


Rice, Whether Warm or Cold, is Always Delicious

by Sethana



Category: Gintama
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Because he needs it, Family, Family Fluff, Gen, Ginzura Week 2019, Post-Benizakura Arc, Zura Finding A Family, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 17:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19024351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sethana/pseuds/Sethana
Summary: A day after the Benizakura fiasco, Gintoki came waltzing into his room. The hint of a grin on the permed idiot's face was almost worth it. Almost.





	Rice, Whether Warm or Cold, is Always Delicious

**Author's Note:**

> GinZura Week 2019; Day 3, Family // Nickname // Food
> 
> Can be read as gen

A day after the Benizakura fiasco, Gintoki came waltzing into his room.

“Get up. The beef sale is only gonna last for two hours.” The silver-haired samurai said as he rummage -- or rather, ransack -- through his food cabinet. Not even giving his admittedly messy appearance a second glance. Or the fact that he was in the middle of changing his bandages.

Elizabeth’s unblinking eyes peered at him from the doorway. A sign simply saying, _[Gintoki-san comes to visit]_ the only explanation the amanto offered before he disappeared to who-knows-where.

“Oi, Zura, not only have you lost your brain, but you also lost your hearing? Or is that a side effect from losing half of your wig?” Gintoki’s ever crass comment cut through his stupor, bringing him back to the reality where a certain diabetic samurai had made himself home in the corner of his room.

“It’s not Zura, it’s Katsura.” He said without a second thought. Slowly, he pulled his kimono back up to cover the parts that the bandages didn’t, all the while lamenting the bloodstains that he later had to wash away from it. “And what are you doing in my house?”

“Getting you for grocery shopping.” Gintoki said between bites of biscuits. “Oh, and you’re paying.”

Katsura had half a mind to protest. It was already there, at the tip of his tongue; _“buy your grocery yourself”_ or _“keep your hands off of my animals biscuits, you perm head”_ or even _“I’m not going out with this atrocious haircut”_ , but he knew none of them could hold ground against Gintoki’s bullheadedness in a mission -- whatever mission this was -- so he sighed heavily and relented. “Give me five minutes.”

The hint of grin on Gintoki’s face as he declared on raiding the fridge next was almost worth it. Almost.

* * *

Walking around with still-healing wounds was a pain, albeit nothing new. And he wasn’t the only one. Gintoki himself took quite the injuries. The only reprieve in this was that they were walking as much as having a leisure stroll. Though that might also be because of the lack of transportation to take them. With Gintoki claiming to forgot to take his scooter’s keys and was too lazy to go back and take it when asked.

Beside him, said perm head walked quietly, one finger up his nose and half-lidded dead fish eyes looking even deader as they took everything in. A classic Gintoki image that everyone who knew him would thought of. It seemed so normal. And Katsura would believe it if not for the bandages peeking out from under his shirt and the occasional jerking movements that betrayed the nonchalant attitude.

Which beg the question, why was he out and walking around instead of curling in bed and taking full advantage of his injured status to boss the kids around like Katsura half-expected him to be?

“So,” Katsura began, feeling those dark red eyes turn to him, “why are you out alone? Where are Shinpachi-kun and Leader?”

“At home. The kids kicked me out of the house for not buying groceries for months.” Gintoki drawled in that tone of half exasperation of his. “The ungrateful brats.” Except that Katsura knew it was a lie because Shinpachi was too good of a kid to send a heavily injured man to the streets and Kagura, despite her sometimes uncaring nature, would sooner tie her boss up and order him to strict bed rest after everything that happened yesterday.

But Katsura only hummed noncommittally in response. It wasn’t uncommon for Gintoki to make up excuses, even a blatant lie. God knew how many times he got in trouble back then for it. Therefore, he didn’t take it personally. Gintoki did things for his own reasons, after all. No matter how small it was. Besides, wondering about the true reason was enough to keep him occupied until they arrived at the supermarket.

“Also,” Gintoki suddenly said as he thrusted a plastic basket into Katsura’s hands, “the kids want to see you today.” He then slouched away to the general direction of the meat section like a cat sniffing for some scraps, not even waiting for Katsura to catch up to him in a true Gintoki fashion.

Though for a moment, if very briefly, Katsura thought he heard Gintoki quietly saying _“and me too”._ But it was abrupt enough that he doubted whether it actually happened or not.

“Zura! Don’t blame me if you got lost here like the idiot you are!” Gintoki’s voice called out from down the aisle. That spurned Katsura enough to briskly catch up to the impatient idiot.

“It’s not idiot, it’s _Katsura!_ ”

* * *

“Ah, look, because of your slow ass we missed the beef sale! It was a forty percent discount and we missed it. _Forty percent discount!_ ”

“We already missed it long before you even came to my house. You should have remembered that it was in the _morning_ , not _late noon!_ ”

“Shut up, time doesn’t matter in the grander schemes of things! The only thing that matters is that my wallet suffers from paying full price for these meat, and they ain’t even beef!”

“It has _everything_ to do with it! And what do you mean your wallet? These all came from _mine,_ you ungrateful bastard!”

“Yeah, and who’s holding the wallet now, ah? Me, that’s who. So it’s mine now.”

“What kind of demented logic is that!?”

“It’s less demented than your brain!”

It really said something about his smacking ability when he could land a solid hit to the back of Gintoki’s head without smashing the plastic bag of groceries along. Truly, all those years of retaliating at the incorrigible perm headed idiot had come fruitful.

The two story building that was Snack Otose and Yorozuya Gin-chan quickly came into view. Still, this did nothing to their everlasting banter that progressed into a topic that had nothing to do with food. Katsura knew that they were just arguing for the sake of it, but he couldn’t bring himself to care much about it, much less try to stop it. As strange as it sounded, this pointless argument brought a certain comfort to him. An unorthodox anchor that kept him steady in the storm of changes.

Gintoki slid the door to the apartement open, breaking their banter just enough to announce his presence, and was promptly greeted by an empty packet of sukonbu to the face. Katsura, who stood to the side, was fortunately spared from the vicious greeting.

“You took too long, Gin-chan, uh huh.” Kagura said through a mouthful of what Katsura guessed to be sukonbu. “Did your age finally catch up to you and slow you down like a snail?”

“Is that how you greet your benevolent guardian, you damn brat?” Gintoki threw the empty packet back just as hard, to which the girl only tilted her head away to dodge.

“Don’t get me wrong, Gin-chan. Mami and Papi taught me to always respect people, but I don’t see any here so it’s all good, uh-huh.” Kagura nodded solemnly like she had just imparted an unknown knowledge, complete with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“You little--”

As if knowing the exact time to appear, Shinpachi popped his head from the living room-slash-office of the house. “Ah, you’re back, Gin-san. Oh, and Katsura-san! Hello.” The boy nodded politely.

Katsura nodded back. “Good afternoon, Leader, Shinpachi-kun.” He then raised the plastic bags in each of his hands. “We brought food.”

“As you should. Good job, Zura!” Kagura stood on the tip of her toes and gave Katsura what might be a form of patting. If roughly smacking one’s hand against someone’s head could be called as such. But nonetheless Katsura still appreciated the gesture.

“It’s not Zura, it’s Katsura. Thank you, Leader.”

“Kagura-chan, stop hitting him.” Shinpachi absentmindedly pulled her back by the collar of her clothes. An impressive feat, really, considering that the girl was a yato. “And thank you so much, Katsura-san. It’s a great help.” He smiled brightly at him.

Katsura put his hands inside his sleeves. Faintly, he wondered where this gradual feeling of warmth came from. “It’s no problem, Shinpachi-kun. I’m happy to be of help.”

“Oi oi, what about me? Gin-san contributed too.” Gintoki piped up with a scowl that was purely there for show.

“You probably just pestered Katsura-san to help with the groceries.” Shinpachi said dryly.

“Uh-huh. I bet you didn’t even pay for a single one of these food, Gin-chan.” Kagura added.

A tick mark appeared on Gintoki’s temple and he whacked the two kids upside the head. “Don’t get so cocky, brats.”

It was a picture that Katsura never thought would ever happen a few months ago. Gintoki, in all his rough and dismissive nature, surrounded by kids who each genuinely cared for him and vice versa. Back then, he would laugh at the mere imagery. But now. Now, it seemed so natural, like Gintoki was always meant to be this older brother -- even fatherly -- figure to the two kids that lacked it in their lives.

Like he was meant to have a family like this.

_A family, huh?_

* * *

Dinner was a rowdy affair. As expected of the yorozuya, really.

What started as calm and orderly immediately spiraled out of control once Kagura accused Gintoki of taking more than his fair share of rice, to which the latter denied vehemently because _“you already have more than the rest of us combined!”_. Then it delved into a battle of who could get the most chicken katsu, with Katsura acting as the decider of the outcome because as the one who made dinner -- along with Gintoki, really, but he was too occupied -- the katsu were all in his possession; and Shinpachi trying to compete with the two but losing miserably. In the end, it became far too chaotic for anyone to follow anymore and before they realized it, the chicken katsu were all abolished during their fight.

Sadaharu barked as the three yorozuya members reluctantly admitted defeat, somehow sounding absolutely unimpressed even through his limited range of vocals.

“I’m still hungry,” Gintoki groaned as he fell on his back.

“Me too.” Kagura copied her guardian.

Meanwhile, Shinpachi cradled his stomach that still begged for food, defeated eyes staring into nothing yet also everything. “I barely ate anything.”

Katsura shook his head in complete exasperated amusement. He, being used to dealing with all the chaos at dinner table, was the only one that managed to eat without having to fight tooth and nail. “None of you would be hungry if you ate properly.” His hands methodically gathered all the dishes and chopsticks scattered about on and around the table.

“There’s no mercy at dinner table, Zura. All men to themselves.” Gintoki said after his retreating figure.

“Yes, and look where that got you. A half empty stomach.” Katsura said back as he cleaned up at the kitchen.

When Katsura returned, it was with plate of mochi and the still hungry trio descended upon it like a pack of crows.

“Really, you three are too chaotic.” Katsura shook his head. And promptly shut up when a ball of mochi landed right in his open mouth. “Wha-”

Gintoki flicked his flour covered fingers at him. “Just shut up and enjoy it.”

The warmth from before returned, enveloping him like a cocoon of blanket. It felt familiar and comforting and not at all unwelcomed. Katsura obediently chewed the mochi -- matcha flavored, he discovered -- and swiped the one in Gintoki’s hand as a payback, much to the latter’s indignant protests.

For the rest of the night, he let himself feel like he belonged in this small dysfunctional family. If only for a bit.

* * *

He met the yorozuya again near the soba shop he frequented, exactly a week later. The three, although looking like they’d been pelted with paintballs, seemed to be in a better condition overall, and they all greeted him enthusiastically upon seeing him. Or lazily holding a hand up in lieu of verbal greeting, in Gintoki’s case.

“Working already?” He asked Gintoki as they both watched Shinpachi and Kagura having a conversation with Elizabeth who sported H*llo Kitty ears, much to the kids’ wonders. Sadaharu was not far behind, tentatively swiping at the odd addition on the duck alien's head.

“Unlike you, I’m an upstanding and working member of the society.”

“Excuse you but I work more than you do.”

“Yeah, but I’m not wanted by the police.”

Katsura huffed. “At least I’m not obsessed with sweets.”

“Sweets is a gift from heaven.”

“And my hair is a wig.”

“Isn’t it, though?”

“No it’s not!”

“Oi, Zura!” Kagura called as she jogged over to them, apparently done in trying to rip off Elizabeth’s new ears. Sadaharu alongside her. “You should have dinner with us again.”

Katsura blinked and Gintoki picked his nose. Which was weird because Gintoki didn’t seem surprised or even objecting the invitation at all. In fact, he was too calm. Too nonchalant.

In the period of stunned silence that got a hold of him, Shinpachi walked over with Elizabeth in tow and voiced his agreement, apparently having heard of the invitation.

“Only if you have the time, though.” Shinpachi said.

Gintoki flicked his booger away and snorted. “Terrorists like him have all the time in the world, Pattsuan. So much so that you’ll see him in three different places in an hour.”

“Oh, so I didn’t dream that up, uh huh.” Kagura' tilted her head.

Shinpachi sweatdropped. "What are you even talking about..?"

Katsura then felt a familiar stare on him and he raised his head to see the silent question in those dark red eyes.

The sun shone brightly above them. Cicadas buzzing in the distance and the river moving in a slow and steady flow. It was a hot day out -- even more so with his monk attire -- but he found that he didn't mind the warm feeling that settled in his chest.

"As long as I don't have to pay for anything." Katsura eventually said. Gintoki snorted at that before pushing himself away from the railing.

"Yeah yeah, sure."

 

That night, Katsura came through the yorozuya apartment's window, much to the inhabitants' surprise and ire. But the onigiri that he brought along with him quickly settled them down.

“Oi, Zura, you should be more useful like this.” Gintoki said as he licked his fingers of any rice grain. The box in which Katsura brought the onigiri in was picked clean.

Katsura huffed. “Just say you want more food from me.”

Just for tonight, he would let the nickname slide.

**Author's Note:**

> I FINALLY WROTE SOMETHING FOR GINZURA WEEK. WHOOO--  
> Even though I'm like twelve hours late but shhh
> 
> But really, I'm glad to finished this especially when it grew out of control, as you can probably tell by the shift of tone in the writing. Sorry if it's out of characters for them. I'm still trying to grasp their characters. Any feedback would be very appreciated!
> 
> On another note, let the yorozuya adopt zura. Pls
> 
> Oh, and thanks for reading!


End file.
